Saturday, February 28, 2015

I hurt a bit thinking about all that I haven't documented with her, especially thinking that she might be our last. Most of her firsts are lost in the abyss, or if we are lucky got trapped in my external memory called an iPhone. I don't know how many weeks old she is let alone have pictures to go with it. And I can probably count on one hand how many posts have been about her. So here's one for you sweet Sybi-Lou, one that's much deserved for the time you've put in.

She has always been strong, but now she's going above and beyond and learning to crawl. It's kind of a hefty maneuver now, rolling to one side and hoisting a shoulder and head forward while trying not to roll. But the determination with which she attacks is fierce and she always makes it to you eventually.

No teeth yet, just lots of drool and chewing and more drool. I give the bump I feel on the bottom two more weeks.

I've been thinking we've got a little serious person on our hands but in this past week a little personality has just EMERGED from this tiny thing. Babbling and giggling and smiling and cooing like no ones business. She lets her feelings, both happy and sad, be known and it's quite charming. Some of the best sounds I hear all day.

While she's attached to me and clearly thinks I'm the cat's meow, Declan comes in a close second. There is just no one who can make her laugh quite like him. It fits his show-boating personality to the T.

After sleeping through the night from about three weeks old she started regressing at four months. It got worse and worse until she was waking up once or twice a night consistently and not going to sleep on her own. So sleep training commenced and within two days she was back to normal. Which means mama was back to normal. Which means life was good. Naps are also starting to come together finally, so almost all feels right in the world.

Basically she's the best, as she's reminded of daily. It probably keeps her going strong with that notion.

This space, this spot, this blank white screen is so foreign to me. It's been that long since I've been here. I feel that I repeat myself every time that I check in - I'm busy with work, with family, don't want to be online when I'm not working, want to see my family in my spare time. And it's all true. But I also want to remember these moments, to do my best to capture these busy days so that in the future, after the rush, rush, rushing stops, when I crave it deep down in my gut for just one more day, I have the opportunity to go back, if only just for a few moments.

So is it worth it to make the time? I hope so. I think so. And with my baby girl's birthday only 13 days away, there is no better time than now.

I truly believe that older babies are easier. They are so full of personality, so adventurous but still craving your comfort and support. So when Sybil's independence started to blossom (which she has in spades) I actually feel a bit more at ease. She entertains herself walking from room to room, falling, crawling, and getting up and trying again. She brings us little treasures like books and toys and plastic wrappers of any sort. She loves to break in to my purse every.single.time it's within her reach. She is fiery and passionate, opinionated yet sweet. She already makes frustrated grunts and faces, sometimes with a little hit and fire in her eyes. It's a little disconcerting imagining her terrible twos, but it's also so comforting to see that she's not a pushover. I'm all for a girl with an opinion.

Seeing our babies together makes the world feel right. They go off and play in a room, closing the door and filling the air with the occasional laugh. Sybil worships the ground that Declan walks on and he loves his "Sybi" back. I mean, occasionally it shown with tackling or some heavy duty squishing, but he makes sure every night that it's with kisses and hugs and every morning it's with an excited yell.

Declan is getting the swing of this big boy thing more and more, speaking in sentences and singing us songs. He loves reading books, playing with any toy that has wheels, and practicing his talking and sentences any chance he gets. He yells "moment of silence!" before we eat, likes to begin his day with a very specific request for oatmeal and all that it should include (raisins, peanut butter, and cinnamon, for the record), and throws about 20 "Mommy, I'm not feeling well. Watch a little tee-bee?"'s at me each day. This age is downright fun and funny. When you throw the crazy pre-teen emotions to the side, he's just so curious, so sweet. I've got to say this stage, this combination of the two, is my favorite one yet.

(These were back in our crazy February week of 80s. Now it's 31 and raining, which basically is an abomination of science...)